I remember when I got my first Nintendo. It was my birthday, and mom made me stay up until at least eleven even though both she and I knew that he wasn't coming home. I had to sit on the step into the kitchen with its cold brass-tacked steel step guard that never quite warmed to the back of my thighs. It was the same brass-tacked steel step guard that I busted my teeth on that time I was pretending to skate back and forth in the living room after Disney on Ice. I slipped. There was blood that time.
I sat next to a box that I knew was a Nintendo. It was covered in an old blanket instead of wrapping paper. It was a big box, it made sense. I sat next to a big box wrapped in an unclassifiable gray knit tartan blanket that was purchased at Building #19 at a steep discount. It screamed 'drug rug' more than it whispered 'comfort.'
It was dark. The lights in the house were half lit, but I can't remember if it was because it was so late or to save money.
I uncovered the box, and I acted excited even though I knew what it was. It had a power button, a reset button, and two controllers. It came with three games. It was an entertainment system.
I wanted to play it, but after all the waiting and it being late I just wanted to go to bed because I was so tired.
I closed my eyes in the bed in the dark.